


Cu'amir Mando'ad (Become Mandalorian)

by MissTeaVee



Series: Our Survival is our Strength [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Backstory, M/M, all fluff and nothing hurts, reference to slavery and war, young lovers being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee
Summary: Just some more Satrina/Korm’rk fluff for people who love these two OCs.Cin Vhetin is a wonderful concept, but Korm’rk still wants to know how Satrina became the man he is; one who’d chose to join the Mandalorians as an adult. Set Approx 20 years before ‘present day’ in The Mandalorian. Korm’rk is 22, Satrina 25.
Relationships: Satrina (OC)/Korm'rk (OC)
Series: Our Survival is our Strength [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707184
Comments: 20
Kudos: 61





	Cu'amir Mando'ad (Become Mandalorian)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vatukka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vatukka/gifts).



“What caused this?”

Satrina blinks at his Intended, then looked down at the scar that Korm’rk’s fingers are gently tracing. He gives a small shrug as Korm’rk lightly brushes his hand down to the center of Satrina’s right pectoral where the long-healed wound ends. Korm’rk watches the other’s face as he consideres his answer.

Satrina is good at hiding his expressions. It’s a rare trait for a Mandalorian, but then, his Beloved has only been wearing the helmet for a scant few days. Finally Satrina gives him a wry smile, stretching out.

“Slavers, I’d found a runaway child that they considered their merchandise. They tried to kill or capture me when I wouldn’t give her back.”

“What happened?” Korm’rk asks, brow furrowing, wondering why he’s never heard this story. “Did Gri-”

“This was before I’d even heard of Mandalorians,” Satrina interrupts. Korm’rk falls silent with a hum of understanding. “But it’s also why I learned about Mandalorians. I was just… thinking about that.”

Korm’rk runs his fingers up along the scar, from Satrina’s pectoral up over his collarbone to the side of his neck. “A poorly executed knifing, huh?”

“Well, you know, a poor execution in general since I lived,” Satrina jokes with a bright grin. Korm’rk gives him an unamused look, but cracks into a snort of laughter at the way Satrina smirks at his own sense of humor.

“You’re adorable. I am glad that you lived though,” he tells the redhead. “What happened to the escaped kid?”

“A Mandalorian came to her and my rescue,” Satrina answers with a wry smile and a sigh, tucking his arm under his head. Korm’rk decides all over again that he liked being able to see the way Satrina’s eyes dim contently when he’s comfortable. “I wouldn’t let him near the kid; he looked like just another heavily armed mercenary to me. But I was pretty badly beat, I was just a young punk and those slavers has beat the hell out of me, my nose was broken, I was bleeding and in pain…”

He touches the scar that Korm’rk is still tracing. “The kid was clinging to me because I’d found her wandering around lost and been nice to her, given her food and water. He asked if the little one was mine and I said no, but I wasn’t letting slavers or bandits take her. He offered to bring her… somewhere. Memory’s a bit fuzzy but I told him he’d have to kill me before he could hurt her.”

“Good,” Korm’rk murmurs, lighting cupping Satrina’s jaw. “How’d he take that?”

“He said he’d never commit such an abomination. The way he said it… well I believed him. I was smart enough to be suspicious, but the conviction in his words. He meant it with every fiber of his being. Eventually he managed to convince me to bring her to his ship, but I wouldn’t board it or let her onto it, so he gave up and brought his medkit out. Looking back, knowing what I do know, I’m sometimes amazed he didn’t beat my ass to take care of her.”

“You were showing Mandokar without even knowing what that was,” Korm’rk scoffs. “Any real Mandalorian would’ve respected you for what you’d tried to do, even if you were a mouthy little punk.”

“I know, but still, the kid was a mess. He was so gentle talking to her and treating her wounds though. When he was done he asked me what my intentions for her were and I just said that I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but I was definitely sneaking her onto the cargo ship I was working on. The kid fell asleep and he and I talked for a bit. I asked if protecting kids was his religion and he said-”

“Yes, but one shouldn’t need a Creed to tell them to protect children,” Korm’rk guesses with a smirk. Satrina nods with a chuckle.

“Exactly. He gave me some rations for her and walked me back to the cargo ship. Once I had the kid hidden in my bunk I went back out to thank him and say goodbye. He gave me some advice on how to find out if the kid’s family was still out there. I really hadn’t thought that far ahead, I knew I couldn’t keep her, I mean hell, I was nineteen, working cargo runs. But what was I supposed to do, leave the kid with some merc who claimed he’d take care of her?”

“Cyare…”

“Like I said, I’d never even heard of Mandalorians before that,” Satrina laughes. “But… well. I sure did the whole trip home. Crew had seen me talking to him, and pestered me with so many questions. I told them he’d saved my ass from a beatdown, but not about the kid. She stayed hidden the whole ride back to… wherever we were taking our return cargo. Hm…”

He shrugs. “I was curious though, I used the ship’s holonet connection to research Mandalorians during quiet hours, Not that there was a lot of good the Empire said about us… them.”

“Oh I know,” Korm’rk grunts, rolling over.

“Yeah, but I knew the empire was like that. I found an unaltered text about Duchess Satine that mentioned that while she had tried to eradicate the old culture, she still upheld some of the original tenants of the Resol’nare, like protection of the innocent above all else. I guess you could say I was intrigued.”

“Hah!” Korm’rk’s mirth bubbles over. “A text about the pacifists brought your interest to true Mandalorians. That’s fantastic.”

“Korm’rk, stop,” Satrina laughs as the medic’s assistant continues to snicker. “Korm’rk!”

Hands grab his arms and Korm’rk’s laughter ia stifled by lips covering his own. He responds eagerly, still new to this intimacy and liking it greatly. He leans forward when it seems like Satrina’s about to pull away, rolling them over to pin Satrina on his back so he can continue to kiss him unheeded.

There is a low groan under him, but Satrina adjusts, curling a hand into the short hair at the back of Korm’rk’s neck. Korm’rk only pulls back when he has to breathe, not having the technique to breathe through his nose with their faces mashed together mastered yet. He snickers, grinning down at his intended. “So, what happened next?”

“Stop interrupting me if you want to know,” Satrina retorts, flopping his arms out over the edges of the bed. Korm’rk settles above him like a smug cat, tracing his bare fingers along Satrina’s jaw. It feels so indecent, his bare hands tracing over bare skin for no reason other than he _can;_ that he wants to do it. He admires the way Satrina’s skin is so delicately pale, almost translucent when he compares it to his own. “I took the kid to Alderaan, but I didn’t visit my family. I wasn’t sure how they’d have reacted. But I brought her to a non-profit group that helps refugees and they managed to piece together where she’d come from based on her description of her homeworld. Turns out a lot of refugees from there had ended up on Naboo so I thought that… maybe I could bring her there. At least she’d be around a culture she recognized then.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, getting short term work on a cargo runner from Alderaan to Naboo is pretty easy. Heck, they even let me bring my ‘daughter’ aboard with me,” Satrina shudders. “It’s actually scary how easy it is for you to claim a kid is your own as long as you’re at least half the same species. Even the refugee workes just assumed I’d adopted her through some program and wanted to learn more about her culture to help her feel connected.”

“Yep, it’s messed up,” Korm’rk agrees quietly, pillowing his head on his hands over Satrina’s bare chest. They’re both dressed down; unarmored and shirtless, though each of them is still wearing his trousers and socks; the rest of their gear stacked nearby just in case. “You didn’t have her with you when Grier first brought you to the Covert. Did you find her people?”

“I did,” Satrina smiles. “We were on Naboo, and I managed to get into a refugee center and we were looking around at all the people. She recognized the clothing as being from her home, so we went to talk to some of the people. We found her paternal aunt. Well, she- Cassadia found her aunt. I was holding her hand talking to some people when she shrieked and ran over to this woman crying out ‘auntie! Auntie!’”

He reaches up to rub at his eye, which is looking suspiciously shiny. “I walked over while this woman was hugging her and asking how she’d gotten here, everyone though she’d died. Cassadia introduced me as “Uncle ‘Sati” and told her I saved her from the bad men.”

“Awww,” Korm’rk cooes. “Sati. That’s adorable.”

Satrina snorts, pushing at Korm’rk’s face. “Stop being distracting.”

“Stop being distractible,” Korm’rk grouses playfully, grabbing Satrina’s hand and pushing it away. “Finish the story.”

Satrina laughs, gently lifting his head to press their foreheads together. “Cassadia’s father had died, but her mother was still around, and the look on her face when she saw her little girl after a year of thinking she was dead was something else. I ended up sitting with the family a while, talking, telling them how she’d come into my care. The Refugee center workers were quite shocked to hear about the whole thing, and it was a bit of paperwork, but they had her settled in with her family again.”

“When I mentioned the Mandalorian helping me save her, people became so excited. I guess stories were known on their homeworld. A few people had actually met Mandalorians during the fighting. The Empire had been consolidating power on their homeworld against that planet’s own military forces. Some tribe must’ve been based nearby, because they moved in specifically to go after Imperials who were killing civilians. Cassadia wasn’t that lucky though. Her family had been spared the worst of the war, but once the Imperials had killed off the local forces, slavers had moved in for easy pickings. They raided and killed several people, taking anyone they could quickly snatch- like her.”

He sighs, rolling his head to the side and looking at the wall of the bedroom. “But Mandalorians had helped other refugees, saving lives, reconnecting families. Some of the kids had been in Mandalorian care for a few days before their relatives could be tracked down. They told me all about the Mandalorians they’d met. They’d been told that protecting them was the Mandalorian way and some had even been taught small bits about the Creed and Resol’nare.”

“It was… intriguing, I guess,” Satrina shrugs, looking up at his to-be-husband. “I was raised religious by loving parents, but, well. I was a teenager when the empire rose, same as you. But while Mandalorians are all about rising up against that Alderaan was… art and beauty and rich. Like it’s people are above everything else. Insular. I wanted to know what was really happening out in the galaxy, not just hear the pro-Imperial version of the story. I was nineteen when I met Cassadia and that Mandalorian who I wish I could find and thank. It took ten months to get her back to her family and then I just… went back to cargo running for a bit.”

“How’d you end up meeting Grier? Her version is just that some random walked up and asked polite in-depth questions about Mando culture four years ago,” Korm’rk says, making Satrina snicker.

“About that. I saw her in a cantina and was curious. I kinda mentally debated with myself about going to talk to her but I’d been researching as much as I could for so long, I’d started really identifying with things I’d learned, and kinda… I guess wanted that. What I could learn of the Creed felt _right_ , you know? But I didn’t even know if I’d be allowed it as an outsider. It seemed wrong to try and practice a culture I didn’t actually know. But there was a Mandalorian, so I approached and asked if could ask them a question. I think she was expecting the usual ‘so can you take the helmet off’ mockery, but I asked if the Creed and Resol’nare are the same thing.”

“I’d be pretty impressed to hear an _auretii_ ask about the Resol’nare too,” Korm’rk chuckles, tapping his fingers against Satrina’s skin. “Probably enough to indulge more questions.”

“She was impressed, yeah. We spoke for some time, and I got a lot of clarifications or corrections on stuff I’d managed to dig up. But eventually her target walked into the bar and she excused herself. I’d figured that was it, but well, as you know she tracked me down before I left the planet.”

“Yeah.”

“We spoke some more, and I mentioned feeling like it was right for me, but you know, I didn’t know the culture from it’s primary source, it wasn’t right to apply myself to it. She told me that being a Mandalorian is a choice, and if I felt so strongly about it, I was welcome to join it if I wished. But it wasn’t going to be easy to become someone who can be Mando’ad.”

“I’m glad you did, though,” Korm’rk murmurs. “It’s been quite the dramatic six years since you met your first Mando, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t change it for anything,” Satrina replies, catching Korm’rk’s hand and kissing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Auretii- Outsider


End file.
